


Never Heard Before

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:07:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey doesn't know why it's the first place he thinks of, he just knows he can't stay home tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Heard Before

Mickey doesn’t know why it’s the first place he thinks of, but he just knows he can’t stay home tonight. Not that it’s anything new, but he’s never had anywhere to actually go before when he gets like this. The bastard. What did he expect for him to do? Get himself beat to death for trying to run baby powder cut with crushed Tylenol? In fact, that was probably his plan all along, so when Mickey waltzed in with nothing to show for his night, Terry had to do it himself. It seemed the more Mickey fought back nowadays, the angrier he got, and the harder he hit. Mickey kind of wished more of the substance had gotten in his mouth, as his father dumped it on him and said they were both a waste.

He doesn’t say any of this to Ian, though, as he leans against the railing of his front steps. Nevermind that it’s going on midnight on a school night. He sees his face war between rage and worry, until it settles on focused concern when Mickey asks if he can crash there for the night. Ian pulls him inside and helps him up the stairs. He hadn’t realized just how much pain he was in until the adrenaline had started to wear off, putting his weight on Ian and moving slowly.

Ian takes him right to the bathroom at the end of the hall and closes and locks the door behind them. The first thing he does is look him over. It’s not fussing, but it’s like when he takes inventory at the store, except it’s Mickey’s bruises instead of boxes of rice. He’d done a good job of protecting his faces after the first two blows, but that left his stomach and legs open for his father’s sturdy work boots to connect. They certainly worked them over. But Mickey focuses on how quiet Ian is, with his green eyes landing on every inch of his face and touching it gently with his fingers. He’s actually kind of grateful he hasn’t said anything, because what needs saying? Ian just sighs heavily and gets him two Advil and a cup of water. Mickey feels bad for waking him up, but Ian assures him he’d just gotten to bed not long after staying up to study for a test. That made Mickey feel worse, so they just went back to not speaking.

After he’d swallowed the pills, Ian carefully helped him out of his clothes and ran a bath. It would have been a bit much, if Mickey had the will to complain. But he let Ian lower him into the warm water, and watched as he left him alone. When he came back, he sat down near the tub and just looked over Mickey some more. The water gave him a clear view of the deepening patches of red across his torso and down his legs. Mickey wanted to pull his limbs into his chest to stop him from staring more, but he didn’t want to move. Instead, he just really wanted Ian to touch him again.

And he did, as he pulled him out of the tub and dried him off with a towel he had brought back, gingerly running it along his skin until most of the water was gone. Ian wrapped the towel around him and led him out of the bathroom and to his room. Once again he closed and locked the door behind them. It was just them standing there in the dark. Mickey figured he’d probably arranged everything when he’d left him in the bath, but he didn’t really care because Ian was there and that’s all that mattered. Mickey shivered from his body losing the warmth of the water, but also because Ian was so close that he could feel his breath on him. Ian began to reach for the light, but Mickey took his hand and brought it to where the towel stopped at his waist. He didn’t want Ian looking at all of his pain anymore. He just wanted him to make it not hurt so bad.

So Ian brought him to the bed after taking his own shirt and boxers off, and tugged the towel until it dropped to the floor. He pulled the covers back so they could get under them, then moved behind Mickey; their bodies fitting together and so hot against each other. Ian rubs his hands on his chest and his thighs and his ass, and Mickey reaches back to run his fingers through his short hair. Ian noses at his neck, as he lifts Mickey’s leg and presses into him slowly. Mickey curses and pushes back against him. He pretends not to feel the stinging wetness at his eyes, but when he closes them and feels Ian push deeper, the drops fall on the arm under him. He knows Ian feels them because he whispers ‘no’ in his ear and wraps his hand around him, stroking lightly. And Mickey gasps through the tears and buries his face in the pillow. Ian continues rolling his hips gently, not thrusting because he just wants to feel inside Mickey and move with him. They keep going like that for a while, before either of them come.

Mickey presses his lips to Ian’s arm, and Ian does the same to his neck and his shoulder and his back. He doesn’t stop until he can’t reach any more of him without pulling out. It feels good, and Mickey wonders how the hell he got here. He balls his fist up and shakes from anger, but Ian takes his hand and brings it into his chest. He whispers something in his ear that he’s never heard anyone say to him before and all the fight goes out of him. He turns and looks at Ian, and he repeats it. And kisses his lips and says it again and again. It’s as much for him, as it is for Mickey.

Mickey falls asleep with Ian’s arms around him and his words in his head.


End file.
